


That is for me only

by DValkyrie



Series: Thunder Rumbles when Adaar's Around [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 04:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5078119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DValkyrie/pseuds/DValkyrie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor's early morning training draws a crowd.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That is for me only

**Author's Note:**

> Tamsin-Jeanne Adaar sometimes goes by Tamsin, or simply TJ. 
> 
> The world needs more of a possessive Josephine.

The training grounds were nearly completely deserted, save the few new recruits trying to gain some muscle.  
  
Seeing the Inquisitor made them all stop and gawk: The Inquisitor was _real!_ In the yard! Carrying a basic lightning staff with no top on!  
  
Of course, many of the younger male recruits ignored the drool streaming from the corners of their mouths.  
  
The Qunari’s arms and abdomen muscles _were_ a sight to behold. Perfectly sculpted and harder than iron from years of training. Tal-Vashoth mages were certainly one of the toughest throughout Thedas, mainly from their lack of circles and templars to keep them in order. The Inquisitor’s black breeches, cut short above her knees, were loose fitting for her long strides. Her chest was bound, and it was too hot to wear a shirt. Fereldan heat was cruel and merciless, matching that of a dragonling. 

Adaar sauntered across the ground, basic lightning staff resting on her shoulder. The staff in her right hand and spirit blade in her left, she was a woman on a mission. She _needed_ to perfect dual combat between both her standard stormwork and spirit blade. It was tricky, because her dominant hand was her right; the left hand also had that blasted anchor, making the hilt uneasy to hold for long periods of time, especially when it came to sealing rifts. Her trainer and Vivienne both showed her alternative techniques, but it just took practice.  
  
So there she was, Inquisitor Tamsin-Jeanne Adaar in the Skyhold training grounds at the crack of dawn. She felt the eyes upon her, and was used to it by now. Years of being stared at because of her skin, her horns and now her exposed body. With no top on, the permanent vitar paint on her arms were for all to see; intricate swirls of gold and green down her arms to her biceps. They stood out against her grey skin, but didn’t glisten in the sun like the piercing in the centre of her bottom lip did. With a lazy grin, the piercing continued to glint in the morning sun, and her green eyes cast around at the recruits.  
  
“Mornin’, boys,” she greeted in a soft voice. One gasped and choked on his breath, and another had to whack him on the back to maintain his respiration.  
Chuckling to herself, Tamsin reached the wooden dummy in the corner of the grounds and readied herself.

 

* * *

 

  
Upon completing the majority of her morning rituals, the final action was for Josephine to style her hair into her low, black bun.  
  
The ambassador hummed an Antivan folk tune as she stared at herself in the mirror; she was currently in the Inquisitor’s quarters, and upon waking up, noticing her lover’s absence, worried slightly. But seeing the note scrawled on the pillow next to her, relaxed. Adaar trained in the morning on occasion, but this was the first time in a while.  
  
Normally, Josephine was unfortunately used to waking up with no Qunari next to her, but the Inquisitor had time off from her expeditions to focus on her training. It seems that _this_ was one of those mornings.  
  
The human woman quirked a lip as she turned and walked over to the balcony. The chilly morning brought a crisp breeze to her cheeks. Josephine smiled and closed her eyes, letting the breeze swirl around her. Although she _despised_ the frost and snow of the mountains, a miniscule pick up of wind did not trouble her.  
  
There was a wolf-whistle from down bellow, and Josephine cracked her eyes open. She looked down at the training grounds. From her position, it looked like a splatter of green and grey dots scattered around the grounds. There was a large space, but in a corner, purple lightning bolts and golden light came flying out. Josephine knew what…or _who_ …the source was of that magic, and smiled on, watching her miniscule lover perfect her already mastered storm techniques.  
  
While she thought about the irony of being taller than Adaar for a minte, another wolf-whistle, and a flirtatious jeer. The thoughts stopped completely. Although the jeers were faint, Josephine’s ears caught them: flies in a spider’s web. She gripped the railing tightly, her face falling into a glower as a derogatory call about ‘wanting to ride _that_ ox’ floated up to the balcony.

With a deep breath, Josephine let go of the railing and briskly turned on her heel.

 

* * *

 

 

Josephine was a master of concealing her emotions and playing the game. Her expressions were always polite, and she was able to balance out diplomats no easier than gold on a scale. While she had mastered all of her emotions, one was a perceiving difficulty: jealousy.  
  
Tamsin-Jeanne Adaar was _her_ lover. No one was to wolf-whistle or jeer at her. No one was to make remarks about ‘riding her,’ and _no one,_ absolutely _no one_ was allowed to see her without a top on _except_ for Josephine. The small human woman quickly descended the stairs to the throne room, and practically kicked the door open. She had her hands balled into fists and her vision blurred, sweeping past members of the Inquisition with a mixture of grace and ferocity.  
  
She ignored the ‘good morning, Lady Ambassador’ from the majority of people, and stormed right past Varric, who sat at the table with a mug in his hand.  
  
“Let ‘em be, Ruffles,” he called after the Antivan, clearly knowing why the woman was in this state.  
  
“Boys will be boys, they don’t know any better.”  
  
Josephine stopped dead in her tracks. She turned to face the dwarf with a fire in her eye that made the small man nearly topple off his seat.  
  
“They will after I get down there.”  
  
With a heel turn faster than Cole’s dagger parrying, Josephine continued her descent to the training grounds.  
  


* * *

Now that she wasn’t in the clouds, The Antivan woman sized up the men; all young recruits, with one or two veterans looking on. Their faces shows stunned expressions, and their eyes didn’t know what to take in: The Qunari’s horns, muscles, breasts or buttocks. There was just so much that even Josephine was starting to get lightheaded…

But no, she would not allow _her_ lover to be exposed to all of these prepubescent boys.  
  
She strode through the crowd, avoiding the lightning bolts and spirit blade essence. When she passed the veterans, their faces fell. They clapped their tough old hands on the boys’ shoulder and urged them to move along.  
  
“We’ve had our fun, boys. C’mon, let’s get breakfast.”  
  
Josephine ignored this, but when a small wall of recruits holding wooden swords and shields blocked the path, she huffed in annoyance.  
  
They didn’t hear her, and continued to stare at the Inquisitor. With another huff, followed by a loud clearing of her throat, one of the boys turned around to look at the eldest Montilyet. He cocked his head to the side.  
  
“Can I help you, m’lady?” he asked in a Fereldan accent. Josephine raised an eyebrow and tapped her foot impatiently.  
  
“I would like to pass, please,” her voice was curt, with only a thread of politeness left hanging. The boy looked over at the Qunari training, watching the sweat trickle into the valley of her bound breasts…  
  
“Tanner, you better move,” a familiar voice sounded, and Krem appeared next to Josephine. The woman raised an eyebrow at the Charger, but he raised a hand to surrender.  
  
“I’ll clear them out for you, Lady Montilyet, if you like,” he added quickly as Tanner was shoved to the side. Josephine held up a hand.  
  
“No thank you, Master Krem. I would like people to see this,” she let her lips quirk into a smile, and before Krem could respond, quickly slipped through the gap.  
  
“Inquisitor.”  
  
A clear announcement of her title snapped Adaar out of her trance with a final swing of the spirit blade. Froze, recognizing the voice, and let a grin form on her face.  
  
The Inquisitor twirled around on her heel, spinning the staff in her right hand as Josephine walked briskly up to her. The Qunari looked around at the crowd she had gathered, and her lips curled even more. She disengaged her spirit blade and placed the hilt into the back of her belt.  
  
Josephine stopped when she was a foot away from the blonde, and before the mage could say anything, the human grabbed her by the front of her breast binder and pulled her down into a searing kiss.  
  
The reaction was a mixture of disappointed ‘aws’ and wild hollering.  
  
_“Hey!_ Have some respect you filthy vermin!” Krem shouted at the crowd, but the two women ignored all of the commotion. TJ was shocked at first, but then let Josephine deepen their kiss. She tried to allow her tongue to play, but Josephine would not let her: it was driving Adaar mad.  
  
Josephine broke the kiss and pulled back. She had to crane her neck to its limit meet the green eyes, so the human stepped back to take the pressure off.  
  
“J-Josephine…” The Inquisitor stuttered while she took deep breaths. Josephine’s eyes narrowed, moving her arms down the Qunari’s body. The small hands ghosted over the exposed abdominal muscles, making the mage’s breath hitch again.  
  
“These are for me, and me only,” Josephine’s voice was stern, yet soft enough for only Tamsin to hear. One of her hands snaked up to grasp the woman’s left breast.  
  
“These are also for me, and only me. I do not like sharing _this_ with the rest of the world. They may have you clothed, and they may have your magic skills, but _this,”_ she pressed against the stomach and breast, electing a gasp from Adaar.  
  
“This is to only be exposed in our private times, Tamsin.”  
  
For Josephine to use her real name made the Inquisitor’s lip curl into a smirk. She was still covered in sweat, and her hairline was peppered with sweat, making her hair damp at the front. The Inquisitor closed her eyes briefly, and twirled her training staff.  
  
“I was unaware that certain… _elements_ of me under your possession, Lady Montilyet. May I see the documents that contain the lease?”  
  
Although she knew the mage was teasing, Josephine’s eyes narrowed even more. The crowd of recruits had disappeared, save the few who were stunned from watching the two women kiss.  
  
“Documents are not necessary, my love,” Josephine’s voice was sweet. Too sweet. Her hands snaked around TJ’s neck as her lips curled into a smirk.  
  
“But I believe you have done enough of your morning training. Perhaps we can go somewhere more private?”  
  
TJ looked up at a young recruit who had been there since she began her training. He was flabbergasted at the scene. The blonde gave him a smile and shrugged while Josephine followed her gaze and glowered at the young man.  
  
He scampered away, tripping over his feet, and Tamsin couldn’t help but chuckle lightly. Josephine turned her gaze back to her lover.  
  
“Well?”  
  
The Inquisitor chuckled and clipped her training staff onto her back. She pulled Josephine in and raised a hand, ready to cast a fade cloak.  
  
“Of course, my Lady. Your wish is my command.”  
  
With that, the fade cloak was cast, and the two headed back to the Inquisitor’s quarters, for Adaar to have a bath and Josephine to enjoy her lover's form away from the prepubescent prying eyes. 


End file.
